Darker Ever After: Always Constant
by Princess Shahrazad
Summary: What happens when the Prince of Thieves Flynnagan Rider missed Corona's Lost Princess? He gatecrashes her parents' masquerade ball and climbs the trellis to her bedroom window. With Detective Maximus hot on his heels. Ah, feels just like old times.
1. Maximus Aquinas, Detective

**Chapter One: Maximus Aquinas, Detective**

If there are two things that Detective Maximus Aquinas hates, they are idleness and loose ends. And the two seem to be all over the place now that the mafia boss is now an ailing man. Very old and without a male heir, his empire is crumbling, while he is not quite dead yet. Maximus knows that young upstarts are going to clamour for the vacuum that the mafia boss is going to leave but he will give them three years before crime will be rife again in the Corona underworld. And that will be three long years of idleness.

As he is thinking, Maximus is doing push ups on the floor. He is counting to sixty but he might have done seventy-five. He is not going to let his physique deteriorate while he is pushing pens and shuffling through files of cold cases. When he is bored with his push up routine, he grabs a grip exercise instrument and starts to work with his grip and lower arms muscles. While doing this, Maximus paces in his small office, his nose is flaring with the intake of air. In front of him is a blank white magnetic board, his wall of mind maps, ready for a new case. But the board has been empty for weeks. When he paces, anyone can see that Maximus is a very tall and large man, but very fit. He has platinum white hair but strangely dark and expressive brows. He has a firm mouth and buck teeth, which he tried to keep people from seeing much of them by keeping his mouth shut and let his eyes and nose do the investigating. And he really has the nose for crime. He can sniff crime in the air.

When his nose twitches, he knows something is up. He sees his colleagues lounging in the pantry next to this office. They are watching TV. Unbelievable! Maximus snorts. His nose starts twitching. When it does, Maximus has to walk until the twitching subsides. He follows the twitching and the twitching continues till he reaches the pantry where his colleagues are watching TV.

BerZerkTV. He hates the channel. It's full of crap.

But something is on.

The announcer on the screen says, "My master is the great Chancellor of the Corona University, and if you not be of the house of Al Hapone, I pray come and crush a cup of wine."

What is this? Maximus asked. Why is the lady announcer dressed in red and wearing red lipstick speaking in weird archaic language?

A running title flitted across the scene: New Chancellor of Corona University will celebrate daughter's twenty second birthday and his installation in two days. Grand masquerade ball at the Kingsleys' sprawling mansion.

Maximus' nose stops twitching. He's found it. The other of his most hated two things. Loose ends. He goes to his computer and does a database check on cold cases.

Algernon Kingsley. Reported that his daughter went missing twenty two years ago.

2011. Daughter, Rachel Kingsley found. Allegedly abducted during infancy by one Gothel Bathory.

Rachel Kingsley told the police that a man by the name of Eugene Fitzherbert rescued her from her abductor who by then had assumed the identity of her mother, in an event that left Mr. Fitzherbert grievously injured by gunshot wound inflicted by Gothel. But Fitzherbert survived the injury. Gothel was reported to have died because of drowning but her body was never found. More than two months passed when Fitzherbert was involved in another rescue of Corona's so-called Lost Princess. This time the case is bordering on the paranormal. It was reported that a teaching staff attached to the University had spontaneously combust after rendering the then Vice-Chancellor unconscious and inflicting stab wound on Fitzherbert. Again, Fitzherbert survived the wound. But then he disappeared. The whole scene was suspect. Spontaneous combustion. A gun and a compacted bullet lying in a mound of scattered ashes. A broken amulet. Again and always, the Fitzherbert character is there.

The mug shot of Eugene Fitzherbert looks familiar. Maximus runs the computer for more info on the man.

He comes to new information that Eugene Fitzherbert is also known as Flynnagan Rider, the heir apparent to the ailing and aging Mafia boss. He is Corona's Prince of all Thieves. That is why the face looks familiar, obviously!

Suddenly, Maximus is summoned by a hunch that Flynnagan Rider was watching the same BerZerkTV broadcast that he was watching, about the celebratory masquerade ball at the new Chancellor's mansion.

Maximus may just have found a new thing to hate.

Flynnagan Rider. Corona's so-called Prince of all Thieves.

**Author's Notes: Thank you to battlebat35 for suggesting this idea. It is pretty risky and I don't know how will this turn out to be! Thanks for reading, y'all.**


	2. Alive

**Chapter Two: Alive**

She cradles his limp body and calls his name, begging him to open his eyes. She touches his face, his hair, his chest; as if she is going to put him back together piece by piece purely with the movement of her hands. He is a survivor, if he put his mind to it, she prays. But he has taken too many injuries in such brief space of time; a dark thought flitted across her mind. He is not going to make it.

He breathes. He says he is not going to try to get through this, this slicing and bleeding in his chest if she doesn't promise him.

"Promise me you will find a new dream."

She promises him. He will get through this, she urges him. A promise for a promise. But he exhales and this time his breathing doesn't come in pairs. Final singularity.

She cries. She laments. She gasps in sorrow. Unintelligible mumbling comes from her lips as she gathers him in her arms and kisses his cold lips.

How strange that sensations in a dream stays to very periphery of consciousness till one is fully awake. It is as if the boundary between the worlds of dreams in one's sleep is just separated by a thin mist of air. She can still feel his lips on her and the dead weight of his body in her arms when she wakes. It is almost like he is still with her albeit he is already very much dead in that particular dream. And so is he in her other dreams about him. The dreams starts joyous and spectacular but always ends with him permanently leaving her. In his own words, that day many years ago in the Corona University Library, _these violent delights, bring violent ends_. There are other dreams too, about Mother mostly, but those dreams about Mother don't make her cry. It just makes her angry that when she wakes up she is still yelling at her. _Why did you do this? What have I done to wrong you?_ Those questions are strange, as if she owes Mother something. She knows she don't but there is something still left from that night four years ago.

She has tears streaming down her cheeks as she wakes. She is practically sobbing in her sleep. Part of her pillow is already wet. When she has made sense of where she is and that she is just dreaming, she sits up in bed and breathes deeply as she snorts her clogged nose.

"He's alive, he's alive, he's alive," she repeats.

"I'm alive," she says to herself.

"We're alive," she exhales in the remaining few drops of tears.

"We're here, we're still here. Here on earth," she says, comforting herself.

There are knockings on the door. She gets out of bed and opens the latch. It's her mother. Her real mother.

"You're awake, Rapunzel," Momma smiles and kisses Rapunzel on her cheek.

"It is a big day today," Momma continues but stops when she sees Rapunzel's face is wet with tears.

"Is it that dream again?"

"Uh," Rapunzel can't even speak. She thinks that it must be suffocating for Momma to know that she still can't escape from the bad dreams after four years.

"Don't feel bad, dear. It's not something that you can forget."

"Am I weak, Momma?" She has to ask. She feels like a weakling sometimes, when that sadness envelopes her and threatens to drown her.

"You're the strongest person I've met in my life. You have achieved so much these four years. And Dad and I are very proud of you. And tomorrow is your twenty second birthday. There is so much to be done."

"Uh, my birthday-" Rapunzel repeats absent-mindedly. The bad dream has completely erased things she has done last night and the days before in preparation for the masquerade ball.

"I don't want to sound shallow but oh, I'm so excited to know - what are you going to wear tonight?" Momma asks.

"The dress, uh, yes."

Rapunzel walks to the huge walk-in closet and after two minutes of disappearing into it, comes out with a white armless dress and a pair of glittering pure white wings.

"An angel? Any particular reason?" Momma asks.

Rapunzel smiles. She won't tell. She knows exactly why.

The first time she met him face to face, he was lying flat on his back on the floor in that insane tower in the Grimmney Amusement Park, coming back from unconsciousness caused by internal bleeding when he called her 'angel'. She was ugly with her bald head and with a face so marred by sadness, but he thought she was an angel. She was his angel when Mother Gothel had likened her to an evil curse.

"I think that's an excellent choice. Later, I need your approval of how they place your paintings in the gallery."

"I'll get to it, Momma."

"Breakfast? Together?"

"Of course."

Momma leaves for her to wash up.

Life continues without him. But she doesn't understand how sadness can stay with her for so long despite the fact that she has tried to do things that she thought could make her forget him. She sees him sometimes and knows who he is with and what he does, but it never hurt her at all. The only thing that hurt her is that she never knew the reason why he left.

Other than that, it never hurt if he is entertaining the Mafia woman. She knows that he is sexually experienced WAY before he met her. It never hurt her because she is grateful for one thing and one thing only.

He is alive. He is here on earth.

And as long as he draws breath, she feels that he will be led back to her, just like the first time he was led to her. She knows, what were the odds of their first meeting ever happening? And for it to lead to such consequences that reunited her with her parents? None. It shouldn't happen at all. For all she knows, on another plane of reality, she is still in that apartment, sitting by the window, he gone away from Mr. Chang's eatery and she still pining for the floating lanterns in the River Leith.

But they met anyway, in spectacular fashion.

Separation is never worse than death, Rapunzel is sure. Even if separation seems to take forever.

And before they meet again, if they ever will, Rapunzel prays that, hopefully, Eugene Fitzherbert aka Flynnagan Rider stays away from evil men and women brandishing guns and cruel sharp blades. She knows that it is quite impossible in his line of work but she is hopeful. And hope is a thing with feathers, according to Emily Dickinson. It perches on the soul and asks for a crumb of her. 

And then flies away never to be seen again, according to Rapunzel aka Rachel Kingsley.

**Author's Note:** Special thanks to my first reviewers – **the-fairy-godmother**(writer of the awesome TRU- I would encourage you to write Max as a human being in a modern take. And I will give you my full support.), **, Wolfram-and_Hart_Sauron, goatgod, SWACGleekFreak,** and **Romance and Musical**. I feel very much welcomed by your warmth.


	3. Torment

**Chapter Three: Torment**

A tall, lean man sits in the dark corner of a bar. He is slouching but the length and perfect ratio of his body made it as if he is posing for a magazine. He lit a cigarette from a pack in his pocket and breathes deep. A bottle of rum is close at hand. His brown eyes are clouded and his hair unkempt. His sideburns are lengthening and his goatee thickening. He is thinking very deep in his deep pool of alcohol and smoke. He is wondering why on earth the Mafia woman is still keeping him while he had done nothing to make himself worth keeping.

"Drowning yourself in sorrow, Rider? Or is it Fitzherbert?" A voice disturbs his morose internal monologue.

"How do you know?" He asks the man showing him a badge that he has seen once too many times.

"Maximus Aquinas, Detective. I want to ask a few questions."

The man called Rider doesn't even look up from the table top holding his bottle. This makes the detective angry.

"Don't you need a warrant for that?"

"I can get a warrant if you want one. But you won't get brownie points once I pin this on you."

"Brownie points?" The man called Rider, or Fitzherbert laughs and asks, "What is it?"

"Did you kill her?"

The detective sits himself down in front of him and brings his wide long face close to his. The man Rider gasps and coughs.

"What is this? Horse breath?"

"Your insults won't make me angry, Rider. Focus."

"What?"

"Gothel Bathory."

"No! In Fact, she shot me. I was THE dead body."

"Yeah. According to the Chancellor's daughter."

Chancellor? Flynnagan Rider thought he misheard the detective but he knows exactly who the man with horse breath is talking about.

"Damn right, she is!"

"What did you do to the body? Gothel's body."

"Look, she drowned. End of story."

The bar hand, Hookhand turns on the TV on and cranks it loud. He tunes in to everyone's most loved and hated shamelessly sensational reality-based local TV station BerZerkTV. The announcer on the screen says, "My master is the great Chancellor of the Corona University, and if you not be of the house of Al Hapone, I pray come and crush a cup of wine."

The mention of Corona University makes Rider turn his head. His eyes are fixed on the screen, particularly on a clip featuring a petite girl with her brown hair in a pixie hair cut, with her proud parents, the Vice Chancellor and his celebrity writer wife.

A running title flitted across the scene: New Chancellor of Corona University will celebrate daughter's twenty second birthday and his installation tonight. Grand masquerade ball at the Kingsleys' sprawling mansion.

"Huh?"

Flynn is distracted. Perhaps Maximus the Detective has seen opportunity. He has seen his weakness. And the man plays on it.

"Do you expect me to believe you, the lowest of the lowest scum in the Corona underworld?"

"What?" Rider gets back to his interrogator, his cloudy eyes focusing as he feels something boiling in his gut.

"You are the Mafia's right hand man now. And you are sleeping with his daughter. You left trails of unsolved shit in the files. And you shamelessly have eyes on the girl you abandoned, the daughter of the most powerful and the most right-minded man in this city."

Bam!

Flynn hit the Detective in the jaw. Of course, Maximus is waiting for just exactly that. He hit him back in the gut. It knocks the wind out of him but he is happy to see that Maximus' nose is already bleeding. The two men are ready to throw more punches at each other.

Flynnagan Rider is used to berates and put downs all his life. But he put up with them because they are true. Yes, he spent his teen years in delinquency and thieving. But he changed. However, his past never stops following him. He tried to turn things around. But it didn't work. How he tried to make good but it didn't work. In the end, he just does it for her. He knows if he had planned better he would be able to have a better solution for his predicaments. He could have made himself disappear from the City, live away in another city, in another state before he comes back for her. But four years ago, he was lying in a hospital bed as sore as hell. And he knew then, that as soon as he gets up the police was going to swarm over him like insects. So he took the first chance he'd got. The Mafia took him and took him away from the police. So she would go on with her life without worrying for the mistakes he made. He knows that she can live without him.

But he can't live without her.

Every day that he breathes without hearing her voice is torture. Every second he goes through without knowing that she is his and he is hers is pure physical pain. He feels soreness in his loins. He feels constriction in his lungs. His head throbs every time he thinks of her. It is like every fibre in his body is wired to her and not having her is making him sick.

"You need help, Rider?" Hookhand asks as he brings out a baseball bat from under the counter. Atilla appears out of nowhere.

"No. This is my shit," Flynnagan says, rubbing his sore gut.

"Then you know what to do."

Maximus grabs Flynn and they both hang on to each other and they stumble out of the Snuggly Duckling.

"A kept man!" Maximus taunts him.

Flynnagan throws another punch at Maximus' face since he knows that the man won't be disadvantaged with it being black and blue. Anyway, Maximus is way too large and strong for him. It's like the man is made out of iron. And he keeps throwing punches at his gut with his giant fist. Flynn is thrown to the wall many times. But Maximus is bleeding in the face. Flynnagan is thinking as this happens.

Being the Mafia's right hand man? God knows how he idles around doing nothing so Al Hapone would send his dogs and shoot him in the back. But that didn't happen. It must be how he gets around and along with his good looks. And then he established the honest business of providing the masses with another drinking hole. With license and all. And no social escort service allowed. There is some good live music and stand up comics during weekend nights.

When it comes to its end, brawl of two turns out to be a sport. Maximus gets his exercise. And Flynnagan gets his much needed catharsis through physical pain. Again, he feels like he deserves it. Maximus has bleeding nose and cut lips. Flynnagan thinks that he might have cracked a rib.

"How's that, Rider?" Maximus gasps.

"I've gotten a lot worse than your puny punches. (Augh) Many, many times. (Augh, fuck that hurts) This is not even a scratch," Flynnagan groans. But he is suffering keeping in gasps.

"Now, if you don't mind, I've got somewhere to be," Flynnagan Rider says and walks away as he straightens his clothes.

"That is great. I'll see you around, Rider," Maximus calls out, completely satisfied.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

He walks a few steps in complete suffering. He realises how unfit he is.

"Who am I kidding?" Flynn breathes. He reaches into his pocket and throws away the cigarette packet.

He can't be breathing in smoke if he's going to breathe her.

Then he doubles over and throws up anything inside his stomach that isn't attached to his insides.

He can't be drowning in rum if he's going to drown in her.

**Author's Note**: Oh my gosh. You guys! **the-fairy-godmother (TRU- what an awesome abbr.) Wolfram-and_Hart_Sauron, goatgod, SWACGleekFreak,** **Romance and Musical, PampleMousse07 (The Journey Home, please update), AIONFanNCRM, alltangledup95 (Surprise), Commander Nemo (the crazy insanely sad WFF)**

You must be thinking I'm too old to be crazy about reviews but I'm crazy about reviews. And getting them at this rate is scary. Hi, Danielle! I understand if you don't wanna read this one. But let me just give a preview of what's gonna happen. Eugene is 28 and he ain't no virgin (this time, since YOU HATED him as a virgin in my old story) and PunZ is 22 years old. They are madly in love with each other and they miss each other until it causes them physical pain. What do you think is gonna happen when they finally meet after 4 years of separation? But I promise you passion and tenderness, with some very choice vocabulary.

PS: I've never drink in my life and I never smoke. So please forgive me if the descriptions are stunted and unrealistic.


	4. Most Wanted Man

**Chapter 4: Most Wanted Man**

The clock hands move ever so damn slowly. It is almost nine in the evening but Maximus is not going anywhere until his brain stops functioning effectively. And right now, his brain is functioning rather well. More files are unearthed from the missing Rachel Kingsley's case. They are all stacked neatly on his desk as he flips through more documents on Flynnagan Rider AKA Eugene Fitzherbert. It seems that Flynn Rider is now the owner of the establishment called 'The Snuggly Duckling'. And all about it are legit. Older files states little about Flynnagan Rider's origin. Sent to the Children of Magdalene's Orphanage a little older than the age of one, the man might or might not remember his parents.

Maximus' heart constricts reading the circumstance that made Rider/ Fitzherbert being sent to the orphanage. He realizes something. He might be the only person on earth who knows what happened. Damn, if he liked the guy, he would tell him. Because ANYONE with this kind of history deserves to know, especially when one ends up like Rider. Poor sap. No wonder he is completely messed up, Maximus clicked his tongue.

The phone on the desk rings, breaking Maximus' sympathetic contemplation.

"Maximus," he speaks into the phone.

"Get your ass down to the Plaza. Right now."

It is the Captain. The Captain likes him above all others. But every time the Captain is confronted by cases involving dead bodies, he will want Maximus to get his ass wherever the man is. Right now he has to be at the Hotel Plaza.

"Yes, sir."

Maximus chews breath-freshening gum during the drive. Facial exercise. And the comment made by Rider earlier did disturb him a little.

He parks at the reserved police spot at the Plaza, the concierge directs him to the penthouse suite.

Maximus is confronted by the body of a young woman sprawled on the hotel bed. The coroner and the emergency medical team are already there. But the Captain arrives minutes after him. The woman is decently dressed. But she is certainly dead.

"What is it, Max?" The Captain asks, his moustache moving instead of his lips.

"Drug overdose."

"Is it suicide?"

"Most likely. But there's this note."

Maximus shows the Captain a plastic wrapped piece of paper. Written on it are two words.

_For Flynnagan_

"Is it the Flynnagan Flynnagan?" The Captain raised his voice.

"There can be only one," Maximus replied.

As they are formulating a plan, the mafia boss Al Hapone bursts in the door, wheeled in by his men, complete with his oxygen tank.

"My daughter!" He screeches through his twisted vocal chords.

"Where is Rider?" The twisted and gnarled, as old as a sick tree of a once feared man yells.

The red head wheeling him shrugs. The other red head, who is wheeling the Mafia Boss' oxygen tank is reading a book, _Dark Spells for Beginners_. Maximus is taking in every detail, which will come handy in then future, he is sure.

But Maximus knows where Flynnagan Rider is. There must be a reason why the crime boss asks for Flynnagan Rider when he sees his daughter is lying dead on a hotel bed, even if the man doesn't know about the suicide note.

Maximus sprints away from the scene.

The party must be in full swing right now, he is thinking. He can see Flynnagan Rider flashing the RSVP card that he stole from some poor guest who is probably very confused right now to the men manning the gates, and then weaving in the crowd to his only target, the Corona's Lost Princess.

If one wants to get his hands on Flynnagan Rider tonight, one has to be at the most happening party in all of Corona.

And it has been a while since Maximus last partied.

**Author's Note:** That is only 635 words. I would understand your reluctance to review such a short chapter. But Max deserves a chapter not shared with others. This chapter is for **Mrs. Naara** who so wants the Mafia Lady to die. Actually I don't like OCs myself. **PampleMousse07**: I will tone down Flynn's badassness. **An Unknown Foreign Beauty**: Glad you're well now. Welcome back. **SWACGleekFreak**: Good on ya, mate! **Romance and Musicals**: Good sexy times coming right up. **Alltangledup95**: Thanks for your support. **CommanderNemo:** I'm very nervous about writing Max. I hope I'll not disappoint.


	5. Be Still, Poor Heart

**Chapter 5: Be Still, Poor Heart**

Rapunzel takes in the colours and sounds of masquerade ball. She realizes that she is surrounded by people who love her. They are her teachers and friends at the university; as well they are her parents' friends who have been with them all through the years, seeing her parents through the ordeal of searching for her and waiting for her return. Strangely the colours and sounds are all too dull and muted to her senses.

The first year after her return, on her nineteenth birthday, her parents were not able to celebrate it. She was in a kind of a re-entry programme. She had to attend a lot of counselling and then there were a lot of things she had to go through which were part of the process of starting her life all over again. Imagine creating her existence, making sure she is fit to live in the world of rules and records. Also her parents were avoiding the attention from the media. The first year was quiet and uneventful except for her immediate entry into the university, which became her only source of joy.

The second year, they had a private celebration with relatives. She learned driving. The family started travelling overseas. The Kingsleys started renovation of their bungalow, turning it into a mansion.

The third year, they had a birthday celebration with the staff and close friends. Rapunzel herself made friends along the way. But there is a part inside her that she doesn't let to be touched by others. The Kingsley's mansion finished its renovation, now a castle with modern luxuries.

The fourth year, everything is now perfect again, as the way it should be. Her daddy got promoted as Chancellor. And Rapunzel is graduating with Bachelor in Arts. The couple's memoir has become a bestseller and turning in million dollars of revenue. And all that is cause enough for celebration, especially her birthday.

Algernon Kingsley is echoing her daughter's thoughts as he makes his toast on the balcony, at the top of the winding stairs that looks down to a hall full of guests mingling, drinking and eating their fill.

Rapunzel is grateful, sweet and civil. But perfect isn't the word she would use to describe her life. Always at the back of her mind, there is this insane thought that keeps haunting her. What if he had stayed? Will her life be as beautiful as it is now? Or will it be better? How can life get any better than now? How can it be anything more than what it is now?

But she can't lie to herself. Her momma seems to feel a certain quality of sparseness in her eyes that makes the woman takes her hand in hers and squeezes it. Rapunzel smiles at her, in relief. A relief that someone understands, even if she tries to hide it.

"Is something wrong, dear?"

"Everything's fine, Momma."

"Do you miss him?" Momma asks suddenly, making her face turn red.

"No, uh," Rapunzel answers.

"I miss him too." Momma continues, letting out a sigh.

"He makes you happy."

"I'm happy, Momma."

"He makes you happier. Sunlight-on-a-windy-day, picnic-basket-kind of happy."

"Well. I bet he's happy too out there," Rapunzel laughs thinly. Momma scrunches her mouth.

"Your father's speech is way too long," Momma complains and starts to nudge her husband.

"Well, thank you for coming, my good friends. Enjoy yourself tonight," Algernon Kingsley the new Chancellor of Corona University ends his speech and hugs his wife and daughter. Her father has chosen to dress as a medieval king, complete with a fake plastic sword on his waist belt and Momma has dressed as a medieval queen, with a tiara on her head. Music plays and people start dancing. It is strange how the music does not register to Rapunzel's ears as she has no intention of dancing even though she recalls an event where she danced like there was no dance floor that could contain her skipping feet. The Lawn. The Market Square. Medieval Weekend. Many years ago that it could just have been a dream in her sleep.

Suddenly, as if moved by the force of a spell, her attention is drawn to a still figure in the midst of spinning and rocking people. Immediately their eyes meet and lock. The man standing in the middle of the dance floor looking up at her at the top of the landing of the balcony is tall and lean. He is not dressed for the occasion. He is in attire that is so natural to his body yet has that allure of the princely and the roguish. He has a black vest on, the fabric embossed with ornate design. His inner grey shirt is a few buttons open down at the throat. His sleeves are folded to expose his taut and sinewy lower arms. If it isn't for the black and gold embellished mask covering his upper face, she could have been sure of he is. But the exposed lower face reveals the brown tuft of facial hair on his chin and his thin lips and perfectly formed nose.

She feels giddy with the sensations of both flying and falling. She knows that it is no mistaking it is him but what if it is really, truly him? Will it change anything for her? Will he being there matter at all? So what will happen if the man looking at her is Eugene Fitzherbert, her once thief-knight-hero?

"Come on, Rapunzel. Let's boogie!" Algernon Kingsley tries to get his daughter into the party mood but knows that he is failing miserably. Who even says 'boogie' these days? Rapunzel sighs.

"You and Momma go ahead, Daddy," Rapunzel says and continues being rooted to the spot. Her father goes on his way to the dance floor with his squealing wife. Rapunzel revels in their perfect happiness. They have found her and their life is complete. But what about her? Will her pursuit of worldly achievements be suffice while her heart is holed and broken?

Now the man standing still is coming towards the spiralling stairs. He is standing at its foot and begins to ascend slowly, holding out his hand to her, beckoning to her.

Rapunzel feels like a kind of wave sweeping over her. Black waves of the water at the Pier.

She turns and flees.

She runs out of the balcony. Away from the blaring music and the suffocating crowd, into the upper level of the house where her parents have set up a gallery of her paintings for the guests' viewing pleasure.

She is now alone at the other end of the balcony when she hears another pair of running footsteps, characterised by long strides and light footing.

"Rapunzel!"

It is his voice. Deep, melancholic but full of life.

"Rapunzel, wait!"

How can she continue running when he calls her name like that? She stops but does not dare to turn. He approaches and she can hear his breath rising and falling as he comes closer. He touches her arm and places another hand on her shoulder. He guides her to face him and she complies, all the while having no control of her own body.

He takes off his mask and reveals his deep sad eyes that hide dark painful secrets. She knows that she is right way before this moment, that she can sense him from miles away. He moves his hand to her chin and cups her face. He can't do any further because she jumps on his lips and catches his with hers and they spin in a half circle of maddened struggle. She only stops when she is out breath.

"Why did you leave?" She seethes in sorrowful anger.

"I-" He breathes desperately.

Before he could answer, she kisses him again, spinning him around. Sound of footsteps and people talking make them let go of each other's lips and slipped into a nook at the corner of the hallway. Eugene touches her face, her cheeks, her nose, her lips, her brows as if he is a blind man trying to remember a face that he has touched many years ago. He collapses into the crook of her neck and kisses her there, taking deep breathes, drinking in her aroma.

"I miss you so much," he sighs.

"Don't," she says, partially in anger and partially in regret.

The noise of people talking disturbs their worship of each other. Their communion is too private to be shared with even unassuming passersby.

"The police believe that Flynnagan Rider or Eugene Fiztherbert will be here tonight."

Rapunzel sees that Eugene turns his head to the voice as if he is very familiar with it.

"Why? We haven't seen him for years."

"He'll find your daughter."

"He left her. And not that they're in any way connected to each other."

The lie sounds so cruel to their ears, even if they are just lies.

"Let me speak to your daughter, Chancellor."

"I can't possibly find her in the crowd now."

"Actually I might have seen her run from the balcony to the gallery. With a man in hot pursuit," the voice drops into a hint of ridicule.

"My daughter is a beautiful young lady. She'll have no shortage of suitors."

"Then you don't mind me speaking to your daughter. For her own protection from psychotic suitors and otherwise." 

"You've got to leave," Rapunzel whispers in his ears, his musky summer air smell intoxicating her senses.

"Let them take me. I cannot stand being away from you. Let all this end."

"If they take you, then you and I will never be together."

He kisses her again. He knows she is telling him the truth from the perspective of the one who has waited with the patience of a Goddess statue carved out of mountain rocks.

"I will come back to you. I promise," he says.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she begs.

"Cross my heart."

Their hands part and he slips from her grasp. She sends her with longing eyes when he slids into the elevator which will send him away from the gallery and into the crowd. There, he is in his element. She gasps as the last bit of his aroma leaves her. She almost lost her balance.

"Ah! There she is!"

A tall large man with platinum white hair greets her. It is the voice who spoke of him just now.

The man goes into an animated tirade about how Flynnagan Rider is needed in the investigation of the death of the Mafia Boss' daughter. Rapunzel gives him a blank look, feigning disconnection to the whole revelation. However, soon her eyes soften with regret.

"If he ever comes in contact with you, please do not hesitate to give me a call."

Detective Maximus Aquinas hands her his card.

"I'll certainly do that, Detective," Rapunzel replies with a smile.

"Oh, happy twenty second birthday," Detective Maximus grumbles. Rapunzel notices that he has a horse head mask in his hand, replete with ears and harness.

"That's a very interesting mask for the masquerade ball."

"I've got this from the vendor parked outside. They know how to make a quick buck," the detective seems embarrassed but happy that his choice catches her attention.

"Enjoy the party, Detective."

"You too."

Rapunzel watches as her father walks the detective out of the gallery. She breathes in deep. She feels sorry for the young woman who has lost her life. And not just because of Eugene being incriminated as well. She has survived four years without him. No. She did better than survive. She has lived and laughed, even in her own secret sadness. She wonders what brought the young woman to her death. Did she hang on desperately to something? Did she let go of her life way before she was dead? Did she put her life into the wrong hands? Did she put it upon herself? Rapunzel had been through despair. She knows. But she prevailed and will continue doing so.

And Eugene? What did he do to be connected to her death? Will she condemn him as the world has?

But Rapunzel knows Eugene Fitzherbert. He is anything and everything but he is not a murderer.

**Author's Note**: Wow! The reviews. Thanks y'all very much. Do you guys know that the _Tangled _fandom in getting stronger every day? Just click the movies FFN by popularity and you'll see that _Tangled_ is number 55 behind _Star Wars_. And _Tangled_ fandom is climbing up, seven months after the movie premiered. We also have more generous reviewers compared to other fandoms (by surface glance, not precise stats. Thanks to all of you. Let's read and review more of our writers' fics. And write more. Hi **Faith Rivens**: Waiting. In. Bated. Breath. No pressure but thank you!


	6. Barefoot

**Chapter Six: Barefoot**

Contact sends his senses reeling. He hasn't been able to do anything else but stay close to the caterer's van and has helped himself to some snacks. He has a feeling that he is going to need the energy for some challenging tasks later. He surveys the castle built for the academic royalty as fireworks shoot into the sky. The light from the burst of pyrotechnics reflects the warring struggle of desire inside his being. He had missed her so extremely that finally touching her has caused him sickness. Damn her and her dark brown pixie cut hair and that crazy etched-in-his-DNA-pheromone-thing smell. Damn him and his fucked up life, Flynnagan Rider curses.

The castle has a guardhouse but he sees that the mansion is not yet equipped with security cameras in spots that he wants to have access to. And that spot is a room with a balcony that faces acres of garden at the back of the mansion. Underneath the room there is a large swimming pool. The combination of sun, shade and the humidity has caused resilient creeping vines to extend from the ground up to the first floor wall, with the help of criss-crossing trellis. He tests the hidden structure behind the wall of vines. It is solid and sturdy.

It is time. The guests have left. The house is quiet except for the sound of cleaning and tidying up by tired people who couldn't care less about anything else but to get the hell out of the place as soon as they pick the last plate and throw the last piece of trash.

Flynnagan glimpses one last time around him before he starts climbing. It's a piece of cake of a job. The trellis is strongly secured to the wall. The vines are generous footholds. Too generous, in fact. His right leg gets stuck in one the thicker clump of vines and he isn't able to extract his foot without leaving his boot there. Once his right foot is out of the boot, it falls to the bottom of the trellis with a dull thud.

Damn! He curses. But he is getting closer to his destination. Not a few inches more. He reaches the nearest ledge to the balcony and grabs the edge. He hoists himself up the ledge and he passes over the balcony. Blinding pain shoots through his torso as he exerts himself, leaving him stars in his vision. Damn the horse-breath detective, he curses some more.

At last! He sighs as he steps into the living space of his Intended, his angel in white wings. The place looks like a part of his imagination of how heaven will look like for a girl with its soft lavender decor and white trimmings in the curtains and wallpaper. He stands in the holy place and takes a deep breath, to lessen the throbbing in his side and to calm his heartbeat. The door of the room opens and closes.

It is her.

When she turns, she is looking right back at him.

He strides toward her, ready to take her in his arms. She does too but there is something in her face that he can't fathom. It is that look she gives when she is angry or anxious or perplexed. He remembers that look when she admonished him to stop teasing the haircut given by Mother Gothel and to stop his lame jokes about cancer patients. He doesn't care.

She is so close.

"Rapunzel! I thought I'll never see you again," he breathes.

But then she lands a sturdy fist in his ribs. He doesn't expect that he would double over and his knees will buckle at the force but he does just that, with unintelligible gagging sound coming from his throat.

"What?" Rapunzel asks, seemingly more to herself than to him.

"Eugene!" She shrieks. That name. It sounds like he's been called home.

"What's that for?" Flynnagan gasps. He manages to get back on his feet again.

"You son of a – agh, forget it!" She despairs moodily.

"Tell me, I deserve every curse you'll ever put on me," he begs her to finish.

"Ah, Eugene. Who are you?" It is not a question, but more like a desperate complain.

"How did you find me?" Her voice softens in gladness and she finally relents herself to be aligned to the plane of his body. She hugs him across the torso. He moans and shrinks away.

"Don't tell me –" Rapunzel withdraws from her clinging and stares at him holding on to his side.

"Ain't telling," he replies.

She pulls his hand and leads him to her bed. She pushes him onto it, making him sit like a good boy. Even in his soreness, she is already making him tingle in the pit of his stomach.

"Let me see it," she says and deftly beginning to unbutton his vest with her nimble fingers.

"It's nothing," he says, all the while feeling desperately and insanely happy to be dominated. He sees that she scrunches up her nose and narrows her eyes as she open his clothes, as if haunted by old memories. But she goes on with the task. And his injuries are laid before her. He hasn't seen it himself. The little horse-play he had with Detective Maximus has left him with a nasty bruise the size of a human fist, of course, on the left side of his torso.

"Oh Eugene," Rapunzel gasps. "I'm so sorry."

"No, it wasn't you," he says, comforting her.

"It's that crazy police detective-"

"It is all me," she says. He doesn't get it at first. But when he sees that she is looking at the vicious marks of old incisions and stitches on the plane of his torso, he knows what she meant. Their violent history is written on his body.

"Hey, I'm OK now. Never been better, actually," he smiles.

"Let me get you an ice pack," she says and gets up.

"No – "he says as he watches her leave. He wishes that she had stayed with him on the bed and trace the scars together, revisit and validate the past and be moved into tears as they make passionate love.

She comes back with a pack of ice that she has taken from a refrigerator in her room. She wraps the ice pack in a face towel and sits on the bed with him. She takes off his one remaining boot, eyebrows twisted questioningly but no enquiry escaped her lips.

"Lie back," she instructs.

"Huh?" He is waiting for her. Somehow she gets his innermost desire and pushes him roughly on his back and onto a tower of pillows against the headboard. Rapunzel opens his unbuttoned clothing wider and begin pressing the ice pack on his gut.

"Huh," he breathes out. The whole situation is driving him mad. He, lying there like a sick puppy. Hurting but thoroughly enticed. And she, being rough like a sick bay matron in a juvenile rehab school. He likes being dominated. By her. And only her.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the short chapter. I can't exactly write Flynn hotness through Flynn's own eyes. But knowing Flynn, you know that is possible. However, the fan girl in me is voting for Punzie's POV in the next chapter. Or at least both their POVs.


	7. Surface Tension

Reading Requirements:

Theme song: Imogen Heap's _Hide and Seek_

Snack: Dark chocolate

Beverage: Sparkling mineral water (you want your senses intact to take in the stimulations)

Tool (optional/ if granted): A partner who will take responsibility of tonight's consequences

**Chapter Seven: Surface Tension**

There are hundreds of wrapped gifts that came for her birthday, Rapunzel thinks. But when she unbuttons Eugene's vest and shirt, she knows she has found her true birthday gift. She is unwrapping it. One knows that when one can't feel one's feet and feels giddy like after being hit on the face, without the excruciating pain. But her heart stops when she sees the bruise. He is hurting and it hurts her too when he does. She tries to comfort herself. He's had worse. He'll get through this one. But still. He is strangely compliant to her instructions. In fact, he is compliant to the point of whimpering. She takes this face on. Inexperienced she is, but never naive. She can guess that he likes pain he can tolerate. He likes being submissive. He likes being treated like a naughty boy down with a scraped knee. When he's with her, at least.

She presses the ice pack on his torso, gently at the first touch and then she applies more pressure. He sucks in his breath hard.

"Happy birthday, Rapunzel," he manages to say in between moans and gasps. Rapunzel looks at him with pleading eyes and continues with her task.

"And you have no gift for me."

"You're looking at it."

Is he reading her thoughts? She asks in her heart. Still the same old Eugene Fitzherbert. Four years has passed. It seems that nothing has changed but everything.

Exposed, without the hindrance of clothing, she finally sees that his torso is long and perfectly proportional to his breadth. She who knows the properties of Pythagoras' Golden Ratio sees this in him instantly. She had suspected this the first time she saw him in his glorious bare-chestedness four years ago in his flat, with only a towel hanging on his waist. But four years is a long time. Such length of time has made her think that he is just a dream in her sleep. Touching him with the ice pack make her feel like a fool. Why is the palm of her hand and his bare skin separated by the coldest thing in the world?

She sees his spartanly sectioned abdomen and feels the artistic urge in her to touch the neat rectangulars, Pythagoras' Golden Ratio in the flesh. She moves her free hand and touches him in the torso. His breath quickens. And she feels the muscles on his solar plexus stiffen. Her fingers begin to travel along the ridges of his torso. He seems to stop breathing and draws closer to her.

"Take me," he says.

"I have nothing else to give you," he begs. He takes the ice pack from her hand and drops it to the floor.

"Give me time, give me time," she says as she begins to ease his vest and shirt off his shoulders. The frontal buttons allow her to do it with such elegance that he doesn't have to move much. The clothing items seem to slide off him like they are silk on a marble statue. When he is completely bare on top, he begins his move. But she steadies his hands.

"Be still," she warns in a whisper, breathing in intoxicated despair. She takes in the sight of his body. From the finely sculpted abdomen, her fingers trace the hollow in the middle to the plane of his chest. A scar as long as a man's thumb is etched on his left chest, under his brown nipple. She kisses it. He moans and arches his body. She kisses all the way to the wing-like collarbone that becomes the foundation of his wide and strong shoulders. She sucks on his throat.

But all the perfection that she has seen so far is the kind of perfection that she can get wholesale from models sitting for figure drawing classes. Such perfection of physique would be meaningless if it wasn't for his soul, contained in his eyes. Such beauty is only meaningful with his soul. She looks at his long, strong eyebrows framing his wide, squarish eyes with dark brown irises. He looks back at her, amazed by the adoration she has for him, as if he isn't worthy of being loved. She traces her finger on the bridge of his nose and says her thanks in silence for the instrument that allows him to breath and thus allowing him to live. Her fingers travel to his lips and he playfully traps it with his teeth. She laughs and he smiles. She gives thanks for those lips which allow him to say the right words at the right times and at the times when everything went wrong, said nothing. She remembers when he was struggling with the unspeakable suffering caused by Mother Gothel's bullet, he had said nothing. He could have begged her to do something, to help him, to call for help, but he did not. He knew that she was completely helpless and he didn't want to add to the burden she has to suffer. He could have called out names that she would later obsess about and search for, but he did not. He did not want her to live with hauntings other than she already has.

But everything leads back to his first scar. The one from Mother Gothel's bullet. Located under his right ribcage, she dives into it to pay worship to its terrifying beauty. Then there is the second scar where they cut him to take out errant shrapnel above his navel. It has perforated his stomach. It was taken out when he was stronger to have the second surgery. It took him ten days. She nibbles at it like fish to seaweed. That leads her to his navel - a perplexing spiral that ends with a small protrusion in its middle. She breathes in his aroma at his centre and he moans as she nibbles on that too. She can see that he suffers at being still when she does all these unspeakable things to him.

Underneath his navel is a trail of dark brown hair that leads to his manhood. She kisses his flat and hard lower belly, while her fingers play with the path of hair. True as it has been described by the books, especially his first gift to her, the two-dollar-on-discount bodice-ripper, _My Charming Bandit_, all her doings have made his manhood harden.

"Please, Rapunzel," he moans.

"What?" She asks breathlessly, apparently not done with her exploration.

"Stop," he is begging her. Rapunzel grins like a she-devil.

"Make me stop."

He cups her shoulders and leads her away from his lower belly. He lays her on her back. Stars appear in her vision when he starts kissing the hollow between her breasts. He stops for a few seconds as he buries his face in the trenches of her paradise, taking in the smell of her bodily perfumery. His skilful hand travel to the back of her strapless dress and slides down the zipper. He pushes the dress down and exposes the small but shapely mounds of her breasts. The constricting pair of strapless brassieres poses no hindrance when he unclasps the frontal buckle and the deed set free her true beauty. His breaths quicken. He slides the dress further down and relishes her flat belly adorned with a small mound of beauty fat under her navel. He plants kisses on every inch of her. She has thought that the entire world has turned dark with ecstasy.

Her dress is now at her waist when he pushes it further down. He now has her only in her white panties. The dress is history now and long gone are her angel wings. He has his hand in between her thighs as he rubs against them up and down. Suddenly, she feels something slipping through the folds in the opening between her thighs. Slowly, but steadily he is working his way through her with his fingers, as if a pioneer trailblazing an unchartered path. The pleasure that he gives through such simple fondling is not possible to be properly describe in words. She is instead thinking of colours. A pandemonium-like burst of rainbow, a spectrum of light and dark mingling as one.

He touches the centre of her flower, the secret of all her secrets. She feels the subtle discomfort of being probed and let out a gasp. She hasn't mistaken that she heard him gasps too. He withdraws his finger from the folds of her centre.

"You haven't done this before," he whispers.

"Gloat then," she pants.

"No, no," he shakes his head. And kisses her.

"You have no idea how I grateful I am, Punzie. You, you – are amazing," he says and touches her face.

"I am not worthy," he continues.

"I want it to be you," she expresses the singularity of thought that has been running through her mind the whole discourse.

"But this isn't right."

"What shall we do to make it right? Tonight."

"We may not see each other again ever in our lives and you want to take this insane risk? What if you get –" he says and when he is anxious he will talk really fast.

"You flatter yourself too much, Eugene," Rapunzel moans in frustration. Never in a thousand years would she have dreamt that she and Flynnagan Rider would have this conversation, on the verge of all truths revealed.

"Well, everyone's has to live with the consequences of their actions and I don't ever want you to do this alone, if anything should happen to me," he explains in one breath. He is worried to death about the future. Rapunzel can see that and it frustrates her. She wants him to see how frustrated she is. She covers her face before she uncovers it again and speaks in a barely controlled tone of voice.

"Listen to me, Eugene."

"I am listening."

"Listen!" She yells. That makes him zip his lips. Rapunzel takes a deep breath and lays out her words. She wants him to know that it hasn't been easy for her.

"I watched you got shot and died. I was in the morgue, on the verge of identifying your body. I waited for the doctors to remove shrapnel from your body. I waited for every second for what seemed to be a hundred years to see you open your eyes. I counted each drop of chemical in your damn morphine drip. I watched you got stabbed in the fucking chest. I held you in my fucking arms as you drew your fucking dying breaths. I had to go through every fucked up second of waiting and torture for you to fucking wake up. Then you disappeared without a word except that crap you wrote in your GOD AWFUL SHITTY DIARY,"

"It's a journal," he cowers. She pays no heed to this.

"I think I have NO PROBLEM with carrying your baby to term and giving birth to him WITHOUT you around, if that's what you mean!"

At the end of the speech, she has tears in her eyes. She is supposed to cry at their long awaited love-making but she is crying now because of anger.

"It's a boy. You want a boy," Eugene says softly in reverence, his eyes thinly layered with tears.

"Yes, a boy. So he will remind me of you for the rest of my life," she confesses. This leaves Eugene awfully quiet for a few seconds.

"I don't want to have to do this, Rachel Kingsley, but you leave me no choice," Eugene says and reaches into his pants pocket. He withdraws a velvet box the colour of dark purple and opens it. Two simple gold bands are in it. He takes one and holds her left hand with his right hand.

"Will you Rachel Kingsley, or will you Rapunzel, be my wife in soul and body, in the eye of God?"

"I will, Eugene Fitzherbert."

"I marry you, I marry you, I marry you," Eugene says as he slid the gold band on her ring finger. He kisses her fingertips. Rapunzel takes the other, larger gold band from the box and holds it.

"Will you Eugene Fitzherbert, or will you Flynnagan Rider, be my husband in soul and body, in the eye of God?"

"I will, Rachel Kingsley."

"I marry you, I marry you, I marry you!" She says as she slid the gold band on his finger. They hold their gold band adorned hands and kisses each other on the lips. First, light kisses like the flapping of linnet's wings. Then the kisses turn into hungry, passionate manipulations of lips and tongues.

**Author's Note: Damon** – Thanks for reading. Hopefully you'll read the first DEA fic and tell me what you think. About the number of reviews, I don't think it is a problem when one believes in one's own story. We can't force people to review. But thank you very much for the vote of confidence. **Aerrows Girl_07** (hang tough, girl) & **Sparklewolf7000**: Welcome back. **An Unknown Foreign Beauty**: Tangled is about Flynn getting injured all the time. Don't you think? Haha. **Romance and Musical**: Right now, I'm collecting all idioms and proverbs in English related to horses for your reading pleasure. **PampleMousse07, CommanderNemo, the-fairy-godmother** (can't wait for TRU update), **Wolfram-and-Hart-Sauron, FaithRivens, TruliFrighteningMonsterAlice, Alltangledup, SWACGleekFreak, AIOFanNCRM, goatgod** - hopefully you all will not freak out at the _Cold Mountain_ reference.

Postscript: Based on my very own limited experience, I strongly believe in sex after marriage. But in Rapunzel and Eugene's point of view, I have to make them realistically in character rather than enforce my personal life experience on them. But they are fully aware of the consequences. Make sure you are too in whatever you do.


	8. Not The One To Horse Around

**Chapter 8: Not the One to Horse Around**

A burst of drizzle hit Detective Maximus' sleeping face. He wakes with a start. He proceeds make sense of where is he now. Greenery greets him and he finds that he has been sleeping in one of the pavilions in Chancellor Algernon Kingsley's mansion. The party. He recalls. Flynnagan Rider. He curses. He notices two bottles of alcoholic beverage on the pavilion bench and two horse masks, lying side by side. While his is a white horse, the other is a black one. The mare of a woman. He remembers now. She had him calling her 'Justice' all through the night and he did just that. She is a little bit heavy at the bottom but she ain't bad. Actually, ain't bad at all. _Don't look a gift horse in the mouth_, Maximus reminds himself.

He picks himself up. The very reason that he decided to spend time with the particular lady party-goer is because he knew that Flynnagan Rider is in the mansion, waiting for the precise time to jump into Corona's Lost Princess' bedroom window. He could have caught Rider when he is climbing the trellis to the window, but then life interfered. So did alcohol and sex and thus, he has been sleeping in the pavilion. Now rain is making him wet and he runs to the back of the mansion, where the swimming pool is.

Maximus approaches the bottom of the trellis to confirm his suspicions. He sees it at once. A boot, the right pair of a man's boot, dark brown, made of leather, lays crumpled at the bottom of the trellis. Maximus picks up the boot, his jaws gnashing with pleasure and vengeance. He knows the footwear anytime and anywhere he sees it. Rider, you son of a b*tch.

"Who the hell are you?" A security guard is brandishing a club at him.

"Detective Maximus Aquinas with the Corona PD," he says, flashing his ID.

"Now, take me to see the master of this house."

The royal couple of Corona's academic world is naturally surprised to see him but being the most civil people he has ever meet, they keep their mood properly guarded.

"Detective! We didn't expect to see you so soon," Algernon Kingsley says. The man is still dressed in his bedroom robe. His wife is with him, already properly attired and is probably making breakfast ready. Maximus smells the aroma of freshly taken out apple pie from the oven on her apron and swears quietly. He thinks he heard his stomach grumbles. He thinks he could eat a horse. Or anything sweet made with apples. Apple pie, apple juice, or even apples themselves. With cheese. And bread. But he presses on. He is trained to function in situations where not everything goes as planned.

"Sorry to disturb you folks from your early morning shower slumber on a Sunday, but I have the reason to believe that an intruder is hiding on your property."

"The reason being, Detective?" The Chancellor scoffs at the suggestion.

Maximus holds up the boot in the couple's faces.

"So? A drunken guest left his footwear and went home in a cab," the Chancellor says and shrugs.

"I found this at the bottom of the trellis near the swimming pool. My horse sense tells me that the owner of this errant boot has climbed the vines and has breached your daughter's bedroom," Maximus explains. With that, the Kingsleys let out a gasp.

"Rapunzel!"

Without further delay, Maximus is led to Corona's Lost Princess' bedroom, only after he has made sure five security guards armed with tasers are stationed under the window, in case the intruder decided to leave same the way he came in.

"Rapunzel! Rapunzel, open the door!" Algernon Kingsley calls out to her daughter. There is no answer.

"Shall we break in the door?" The Chancellor asks.

"Hold your horses!" Maximus says calmly.

"What? Why not?"

"That won't be necessary. Your daughter is not in any way in any kind of danger," Maximus tries putting the Chancellor at ease.

"Why do you say that?"

"At least, not the kind of danger I was thinking," Maximus muses.

"What kinds of danger have you got in mind?" Algernon Kingsley asks angrily.

"Life-threatening ones."

"And other kinds of danger?"

"The kinds that will drive respectable parents of a respectable and sheltered young lady crazy."

"What?"

"You will know straight from the horse's mouth," Maximus says with a sly smile on his face as he resumes with the task of knocking on the door that has been abandoned by the Chancellor.

"But whatever happened, Chancellor, is like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted."

"Huh?"

Maximus knows that all the equine-related reference is driving the Kingsleys' crazy. But he can't seem to help it.

"Any time now," Maximus says, smiling lopsided.

**Author's Note:** Thank you for the reviews, folks! I have a feeling you guys are missing Maximus. **CocoRocks **– Welcome and thank you! Happy Workers' Day!


	9. The Road to Redemption

**Chapter Nine: The Road To Redemption**

A sound like cereal sprinkled on zinc rushes to his ears. It is raining. Sunlight is shining through the drizzle into Rapunzel's room. His angel is sleeping on his arms, her arms splaying across his chest. Her face is streaked with dry tears. Ouch. Eugene can no longer feel his arm. Her head has hindered the blood flow through his veins. But he doesn't dare to wake her. The princess has cried herself to sleep. All because of him and his sudden epiphany.

There is knocking sound on the door, which sends the two of them immediately awake.

"My parents! Quick, Eugene. You have to go," Rapunzel says while she moves disoriented around her bed, finding her white dress, putting it on.

"Rapunzel, I'm not going anywhere," he says in respond to her frantic.

"What?" Rapunzel is aghast. Eugene smiles at her comfortingly.

"We're no longer school kids. I'm gonna say hello to your parents. And I'll explain the rings if they ask," Eugene explains as he starts to put on his clothes. He looks at his single boot and sighs. Rapunzel looks at him with unblinking eyes.

Glomp! She jumps and hugs him around the waist and buries her face in his chest.

"I thought you'll never ever do that," she sighs.

"Give me two days," Eugene pleads to her.

"What?"

"Two days to make things right for you."

"No. Stay with me. Here."

"It's not that simple, Princess. Please give me that much. That'll be the last thing I'll ever ask of you."

"Don't say 'last'. I hate the word."

"I will not say it again if you wait two more days."

The knocking continues.

Rapunzel opens the door once she has dressed in her white party dress.

"Rapunzel!" The voices of her anxious parents burst into the room. As Rapunzel opens the door wider, Eugene makes his existence known. The couple's eyes widen and Eugene can hear that they are holding their breaths.

"Good morning, Chancellor, Mrs. Kingsley," he says and holds out his hand.

But the Chancellor just freezes. Four words come out of his mouth. Not with any kind of malice, but not really appreciative or welcoming.

"You're not welcome here."

Eugene takes his hand back and starts rubbing his head.

"That's understandable. Considering that I didn't get invited to the party. Hahaha," he laughs uncomfortably.

"It seems that the only person who is excited to see you here is I," a voice says. Eugene turns his attention to the voice. The hulking giant of a man in grey trench coat. Detective Maximus Aquinas. The latest bane of his existence, among many others.

"Well, I hope you're here to apologize, Detective," Flynn grins like a devil.

"Actually, I need you to come with me to the precinct," Detective Maximus clenches his fists as he says that. Eugene knows that if he resisted, there'll be some violent scuffle in the peaceful and stately mansion.

"Why would I do that?" Eugene scoffs. He is letting his Flynn Rider personality shine through again. He knows that it must be difficult for Rapunzel to see all these happening right in front of her. How he wish that he can be perfect for her, but things always turn out wrong.

"To assist me in the investigation of Julietta Hapone's death."

"What?" Flynn Rider gasps in shock.

He has nothing to do with the woman. He had warned her about their future together, which is nil. But she had hung on to him. But there are other things too. Drugs. Alcohol. The woman was messed up. But he didn't emotionally invest in her even though he was sympathetic towards her. Because he saw that she has brought it upon herself. Unlike Rapunzel when he first met her. Rapunzel was different. Still is different.

"Did you know about this, Princess?"

Rapunzel nods. Her parents nod as well, regardless that their initial reaction towards him was cold and indifferent. He has a feeling that they still remember him as the person who brought their daughter back to them, in a way, despite the crap they had to go through after that, caused by the misfortune that happened to him.

"Actually everyone knows," Detective Maximus says.

Eugene sees hope in this sudden turn of event. He sees reprieve. The Mafia will ease him off their clutch on him. He is no longer the heir apparent. He wants nothing to do with them. Let him be a poor man, working in Chinese eateries, not a penny to his name for the rest of his life, but let him be free. He knows since four years ago that some dreams are just masks for inadequacy. But a niggling question stays with him. If the police are connecting him with the woman's death, won't the Mafia be doing that too? As every second passes, the question intensifies.

"Now if you can come with me," Detective Maximus says and hands him his one boot. Eugene excuses himself to wear his boots. As he passes from the door, he squeezes Rapunzel's hand.

"Remember. Two nights from last," he says in a low voice.

"Please come back," she whispers back to him.

At the precinct, Maximus has him placed in the interrogation room. Despite Maximus' initial hatred towards him, the detective is civil and professional in his interrogation. Flynn knows that the police have nothing concrete to pin the case on him.

"Where were you between Thursday and Friday?"

"At the Snuggly Duckling."

"The whole time?"

"Yes."

"Do you sleep there too?"

"I own the place."

"What do you there?"

"Running a business. After closing time, play cards and drink."

"Can anyone verify this story?"

"Are you kidding me? There's this guy, Bignose, who is practically joined at the hips with me. Atilla, he does bakery after closing time, fermenting the dough and everything. Hookhand, well, he lives there too. Then we have resident veteran Shorty, he NEVER leaves the place. And Thor, Vladimir the bouncers. All can vouch for me."

"They're all your friends. "

"They can't coordinate their stories very well if the thread story ain't true."

"Then, how do you explain this?"

Maximus shows him the note. _For Flynnagan_. Eugene's face drops.

"I'm really sorry this happened to her. But I don' - I can't explain how or why – she made some bad choices and this is one of them, albeit the last one she'd ever make."

"You're driving women to early graves with your charm."

"Not Rachel Kingsley." Eugene says with a longing only visible for a split second. Seeing vulnerability, Maximus will have seen the opportunity to attack and cause injury where it really matters.

"Did you do it to her?" The detective asks.

"Rapunzel? Rachel Kingsley? Corona's Lost Princess?"

Maximus nods, gnashing his teeth.

"No. I did not."

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

"If there is a future for me and Rachel Kingsley, I want our child to have a father. I don't want our child to suffer the same fate as me. For once, I want it to make it perfect."

"That hadn't stopped you before," Maximus scoffs.

"Not after I met her."

"So what do you suppose is going to happen to you after this?"

"I'm gonna go back to the Duckling and life will go on."

"Do you think it'll be that simple, eh Rider?"

"No. But I gotta be optimistic. Look, I've told you everything I know. Can I go now or shall I get myself a lawyer?"

"That won't be necessary," Maximus says, dismissing him like trash.

Flynnagan Rider doesn't mind being trash. He's been through worse than being trash. He steps not three feet from the precinct door when he sees a black van pulls up to the kerb. He is pulled roughly into the van. He knows his captors.

"Hey, guys!" Flynn greets the Stabbingtons. Pollock and Horace are silent.

"Come on guys, let's start over. I'm no longer heir apparent. So let's abandon this and be free men."

"Taking you to Al Hapone will make us heir apparent, now that your Mafia good luck charm has expired."

"Don't be unkind," Eugene reprimands.

"You're saying?"

"Forget it. Where are you taking me?"

"The Pier."

"What? Not again."

Somehow, he knows he had to do the right thing last night. And he has done the right thing. Two nights. Because in his world, anything can happen in two nights' time.

Horace Stabbingtons pulls out a gun, points it at him and his brother Pollock, hit him on the head. Flynnagan is immediately swallowed by darkness.

**Author's Note**: **Romance and Musical**: Happy Birthday. **An Unknown Foreign Beauty**: This fic won't be as long as DEA. I just wanna give the story a proper ending. Thank you for reading, everyone!


	10. Return to the Pier

**Chapter Ten: Return to the Pier**

She watches him go with both ready knowledge and fear clutching at her heart. She knows that he may not return, no matter how vehemently he has promised, knowing how uncertain life can be. But fear of anticipating such still feels the same as if this is the first time it happened to her. Gosh, this could happen a thousand times and the hurt will still be no less.

"Are you OK?" Momma asks as soon as their eyes are able to break free from the sight of police cars driving out of the lawn.

"Did he hurt you?" her dad blurts out, his eyes widened in horror.

"No, he didn't hurt me," Rapunzel sighs.

"He is Eugene, Dad. Don't you remember Eugene? Your former student? The one who made my return back to you possible?"

"Yes, I remember Eugene Fitzherbert. Or Flynnagan Rider. Or whatever or whoever he is. But, that was four years ago. He has changed. I mean, he's with the Mafia now, for goodness sake!" Algernon Kingsley makes elaborate gestures with his hands.

"He didn't want it to happen. And he thinks that there is hope that he can make them forget him. Now that Al Hapone is too old and has no male heir –"

"And the daughter dead!" Rapunzel's father yells.

"Please calm down, dear," Anna Kingsley reprimands her husband.

"I AM CALM!"

"Al, Let Rapunzel speak," Momma grimaces and squeezes her eyes shut, as if all the hand gestures and yelling are hurting her.

"He didn't know that till the Detective told him just now."

"Oh, and that is going to be good for him. I don't want you to get hurt, Rapunzel. He left you four years ago without a word. You were devastated. We thought you'll never get over him. And now he's back. After all you have accomplished! That moron. Why in earth is he still dating my daughter," Algernon Kingsley shifts back and from talking to his daughter to talking to his wife and then, talking to himself.

"Hello! Rapunzel is here!" His wife Anna reminds him.

"Dad, I want you to remember the Eugene Fitzherbert that you knew. You liked him four years ago and I don't think it needs to be any different now," Rapunzel says and touches her father's stubbled cheeks. Algernon Kingsley's eyes caught hold of the shiny gold band on his daughter's finger.

"What's that on your finger?" Algernon asks as he has a feeling that it is not a trinket. And Rapunzel knows that her father knows she isn't a fan of jewellery. Rapunzel doesn't like dollops of paint dirtying bangles and rings if they are on her fingers and wrists.

"We're engaged to be married," Rapunzel announces thinly, anticipating her father's reaction.

"What?" Algernon Kingsley is totally freaked out now. The man is clutching his hair.

"How sweet!" Momma exclaims.

"Anna!"

"I mean, he gatecrashes into the masquerade ball, climbs into your bedroom window, ready with a ring that is the size of your finger? That is so thoughtful," Momma says.

"Come on, Anna. Don't encourage this behaviour," Dad begs Momma.

"Let me see it," Momma says and delicately holds Rapunzel's hand.

"Oh, it's so simple-looking. I was hoping he would buy something more – opulent," Momma comments at the barrenness of the ring.

"Ahah! I knew that he's not a fan of engagement rings kind of man," Father says and without him realising is inching closer and closer to get a better look at the engagement ring.

"He says that he bought the rings with his own money before he is taken by Al Hapone. It was with his final pay check from the Chinese eatery. He wanted the ring to be the symbol of all that he could give me. Not some show off thing for people to envy."

"I understand. That is very sweet of him!" Momma says, genuinely apologetic.

"Oh, come on!" Her father yelled.

Anna Kingsley turns to her husband and holds him on his face. She speaks to him gently but firmly.

"Dear, let's see this in perspective. Rapunzel is an adult now. Even though we just got her back, she's no four-year old. She leads her own life. This is her decision. And we know Eugene Fitzherbert. He is no Mafia henchman. We know that. I don't think he would make this decision if he knew he had no chance to have a life with our daughter."

"Thank you, Momma. For believing in me," Rapunzel says quietly. She knows that this has been hard for her parents. And Momma is putting up a brave front. For her and for Father as well. If Momma has given up on her, Father would have gone absolutely nuts, she knows.

"I just want you to be happy Rapunzel. I don't want you to be heartbroken again," Father says after a few moments of silence.

"I don't know Dad. He asked me to wait."

"I don't understand."

"He asked me to wait for two days so he can straighten things out."

"Why two days? Why not two weeks, two months? Two years? He made you wait four years, for God's sake!" Father is losing it again. Because he sees signs of Eugene not returning after two days and therefore, breaking his daughter's heart again.

"Because the day we met, it took us two days till we got separated again. He says if he's lucky he'll make it out of two days alive."

"I can see how optimistic he is," Father gnashes his teeth.

"I think you must take some breakfast first. An empty stomach is making your grumpy, dear," Momma pushes Father to the kitchen.

"Harumph."

After she had made Father seated and occupied with food, she holds Rapunzel by her shoulders; and mother and daughter go into the bedroom. Momma sits by the bathtub as Rapunzel soaks in a warm bath.

"Your dad is very worried. Don't you mind him. He still thinks that you're his little girl he lost many years ago."

"Tell Dad not to worry, Momma. Nothing happened last night."

"Really?" Momma clears her throat audibly. Rapunzel knows that Momma feels relieved at this revelation.

"He said that everything has its consequences. And he doesn't want me to face those consequences alone."

"What a man!" Momma gasps happily.

Rapunzel goes out of the bath and starts dressing up for the chilly autumn.

"Where are you going?"

"To the university. I want to do drop some books I borrowed."

"Do you want me to send you there?"

"No, I'll take the bus."

The bus ride is melancholy nostalgic. But she is hopeful now. She feels happy. As if the world has suddenly shifted from dark into light. Her most prominent thought is that he remembered her during the years they lost. He missed her all these years. He was suffering all the while and she did better than him. Her life continued while he was in limbo of pure hellishness. And finally, he had return to her, against all odds.

She couldn't ask for more. Except that he will return to her after the promised duration. Twirling the simple unadorned gold band on her finger, Rapunzel can't help smiling as she studies the engraved letters on the ring. R + G. Rapunzel and Gene.

Gene. Now, that's a name that one can grow old with.

Rapunzel steps off the bus and begins walking into University compound. In her happiness, she doesn't notice two large men following her. The next thing she knows, she feels two large hands clamping down her shoulders and a hard sharp point of something pointed to her kidneys. She wants to scream for help but the compound is deserted. Her plan is to take a walk to revisit the nostalgia of their first meeting in such deserted peace.

"Come with us quietly and nobody gets hurt."

She knows the voice. When she turns and sees them, she knows them. Her first encounter with them was in darkness, but she sees that their silhouettes match their form.

"Where are you taking me, thugs?"

"To a grand reunion at the Pier."

"I don't understand."

"You have caused the death of Al Hapone's daughter."

"How can that be?"

"He has never forgotten you."

"Eugene?" The realization hit her like lightning bolt.

"Flynnagan Rider."

"No! Please, don't hurt him,'' she begs in fear so desperate that it chills her bones. She can't seem to move but they drag her, straight into a van.

"We won't if you do as you're told."

She obeys. She submits as long as she can guarantee his life remains safe. Indeed, two days is far too long and far too treacherous.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the long wait, folks. School is getting pretty hectic. And thank you for the lovely reviews. They help me be motivated!


	11. Wounds

**Chapter 11: Wounds**

He opens his eyes in complete and utter darkness. For a moment he thinks that he is already dead and in some sort of never-ending emptiness. But he realizes that he is still wearing his watch.

Wait, he thinks. Who would wear a watch when they're dead?

Eugene touches the dial on his watch and the light of the screen shines in the darkness and he can see that he is in the trunk of a car. He directs the light to the corners in search of things that can help him out of the trunk which vehicle is immobile and finds nothing useful. From his compressed and uncomfortable point of view, he can see nothing of use but a thing he finds peculiar. It is a cylindrical metal can, like the ones that contain cocoa powder. He wants to find out what is in the can that will be useful to arm himself with. He is hoping that he can find a small knife or, a scissor or a hair pin, even. His hands are tied but they are tied in front of him. So he manipulates them and is able to open the lid of the can. He is surprised that he finds the can is filled with ashes. He has a bad feeling about the origin of the ashes and closes the lid. Only then, he sees something written on top of the can lid in permanent ink – Gothel Bathory.

Oh God! He chokes and coughs. He is in the same cramped dark space as Rapunzel's dead Mother. The bizarreness of the situation makes him want to throw up.

The car trunk opens and salty fresh air greets him.

"Ah!" He breathes and immediately sees the two faces he missed dearly. He rather sees the Stabbingtons than be in the trunk with Gothel's canned ashes.

"Hey guys! I thought I'd never see you again," he says with genuine relief.

"Tough luck, Rider," says the one with the eye patch and pulls him out of the trunk.

Out of the trunk, he sees the world is already dark. Everything looks eerily familiar, the salty sea breeze sweeping his face and the wide platform gazing blankly back at him. However, he is glad that he has blood flowing again in his legs.

"What?" He gasps when he sees a familiar silhouette seated on a bench in the dark against the zodiacal light in the horizon. He is washed over by a horrific sense of déjà vu. Anger kicks in. Using his combined fists, he swings into the face of the eye-patched Stabbington, sending the man staggering. The other Stabbington lunges at him with his a gun in his hand but receives a kick to the face. He is sent flying to the concrete. Eugene takes the gun which has been thrown with a clatter of sound and holds it with both hands.

"Stop, Rider!" A scratchy voice calls out. Eugene knows the voice at once and walks toward it, pointing the gun with both hands. He still hasn't managed to undo the binding on his wrists. Inadvertently, he is pointing the gun at her as he is pointing to gun to the voice.

"Rapunzel!" He calls out. Her mouth is bound, and it is not a scarf this time binding her. It is duct tape that is impossible to slide off, without something sharp to cut through it.

"Move an inch and she's dead."

Al Hapone is hiding behind the bench where she is sitting, pointing a gleaming gun to her head. The state of affairs in the crime world is so bad now that Al Hapone has to do everything himself. However, in the light of the current event, all leverage is on Al Hapone's side.

"She has nothing to do with this. Let her go!" Flynnagan calls out.

"I lost my daughter. Someone should pay."

"But not her!"

The Stabbingtons are already up and they pounce on him like hyenas. He let go of the gun. They kick him at the back of his knees and bring him kneeling on the concrete. He sees fear so palpable in her eyes and they spoke the words she could not speak though her lips. The Stabbingtons bring him forward so the aging crime boss can see him properly and aim properly as well.

_Eugene, I'm so scared._ She seems to be saying. She is scared for his life, he knows. She is scared of a future without him after the pleasures that she had last night. And God knows how scared he is too. He is scared of life without her again. Years and years of being alone in the midst of people who clamour over him. And he is scared that if she is going to be scarred by the consequences of tonight's event. He is not scared to die, though. Dying is already like breathing to him. It is living without her that scares him to death.

"Everything's going be alright, Princess," he says. He wants to touch her but his hands are tied. They are only separated by the space of mere yards.

"It's me who drove your daughter to madness," Flynnagan turns and speak to the aging crime boss.

"And it's her who drove you to madness," the old menace responds bitterly.

"It is not her fault that I can't forget her."

He sees that she is crying now, a trail of wetness flooding down her cheeks, her eyes two pools of despair.

"Now, it's going to be your fault that she's not going to forget tonight. She will be driven into madness by your death in your effort to save her life," Al Hapone continues and bitterness is replaced by relish.

"I've died a hundred times and she finds herself new dreams everyday. She has promised me that she will again. And she never breaks a promise," Flynnagan replies in resignation. He only wants to remind Rapunzel of her promise to him four years ago. He wants her to live no matter what happens tonight.

"We'll see if that promise will be kept this time."

A crash of a gun rings so close in his ears. His body feels like lead. He falls to the ground, with tied hands. It hurts like being torched and he isn't able to staunch his own wound.

A muffled cry comes from his beloved who is tied to the bench.

And at the instant, sound of sirens interrupted the outcome of the horrid execution. Steps of running men and shouting officers assail his hearing. In laboured breath, he sees a familiar face.

Ah, the cavalry. Always two seconds too late.

"Get up, Rider!" A stern voice yelled at him.

"What?" He gasps.

It was Maximus, the detective standing over him with a jeering face.

"That is a fucking flesh wound!" The man says.

"I know!" Eugene exclaims in return.

Maximus takes out a knife and cuts off the duct tape binding his wrists.

"Then why on earth are you still lying on the concrete? Get the fuck on your feet, man!"

"I'm basking in the beauty of flesh wounds. My first flesh wound. I can get hundreds of these and not complain one bit," Flynnagan says with his eyes closed. He is holding the bleeding on his upper left arm.

"He can't even aim properly now," Flynnagan exhales in relief.

"It was so close."

"Count yourself one blessed son a b*tch, Rider. Not your first lucky ticket, I believe?"

"No. "

Maximus becomes quiet and slowly, a smile grows on his face. Maximus begins to laugh. He kneels and tie a handkerchief to Flynnagan Rider's nicked shoulder.

"Enjoy your flesh wound, Rider. Hopefully it will be the last of any kind of wound you'll ever have."

"Thank you, Detective. But how did you find us?"

"It's your boot."

Flynaggan takes off his boot and turns it upside down. There is a square sticker on the sole and he peels it off, revealing an apparatus the size of a coin.

"Yours I believe?"

"Yeah."

"Eugene!"

He sees Rapunzel already freed from her restrains by the police and she kneels beside him. Only then he has the strength to sit. She hugs him at his waist.

"Are you OK, Princess?"

"You're shot and you're asking me if I'm OK?" Rapunzel asks disbelievingly.

"I'm sorry that I put you through this."

"It's not your fault. And you're alive. We're alive, Eugene!"

Eugene gets on his feet and takes her by the hand. He heads to the car that he was kept in.

"I have something for you," he says and takes out the cocoa powder can that he encountered in the trunk.

"What is it?" Rapunzel asks, laughing nervously.

"This is Mother Gothel."

"What?"

Rapunzel takes the can and read the writing on the lid.

"Oh!" She gasps.

Eugene sees that Detective Maximus is witnessing this exchange and he has a feeling that the man will take the can away from her. But the detective turns and walks away from the scene. Detective Maximus never sees the can containing Gothel's ashes. The police don't need the ashes. But Rachel Kingsley aka Rapunzel Bathory does. Eugene, that is who he is now, remembers last night they have spent talking about the four years they have lost. Rapunzel has told him about the nightmares she has about Mother. The grieving daughter needs her closure.

"I think it's time to say good bye to Mother."

Eugene and Rapunzel walk to the edge of the Pier, at the exact spot where he had bled out after Gothel shot him. At the exact spot where Rapunzel had tried to staunch the bleeding to no avail. And the spot where Gothel had jumped into the sea when he had thrown the enchanted book and pen into the waves. Rapunzel opens the lid of the can and pours out its contents into the wind. Grey ashes flew out, some scattered by the wind but finally all are swallowed by the sea.

"Goodbye, Mother," she whispers. Eugene holds her by the shoulder.

"I'm so proud of you."

She is crying without a sound.

"Ahem!" Someone is clearing his throat. Eugene turns around.

"I'm taking you for a ride, Rider," Detective Maximus says.

"Where?" Eugene asks.

"Rachel Kingsley has had her goodbye. Don't you want to have yours?"

"What?"

"To the Weeping Willows Cemetery in North Corona."

"Oh."

"I'm going with him," Rapunzel says.

"Your parents are here, Miss Kingsley," Maximus informs.

"They will understand."

"Suit yourself."

Detective Maximus drives like a lunatic with a dire need of going to the washroom. They reach the Weeping Willow Cemetery in North Corona at first light of a new day. The detective shows Eugene two tombstones, simple grey slabs laid side by side on the green grass. One has the words '_Eugene R._ _Fitzherbert_. _1954 – 1982. Loving husband and father'_ written on it. And next to it is another slab _written 'Sophia Garcia Goya Fitzherbert_. _Loving wife and mother_._1960 – 1983_.'

Eugene kneels to the ground, speechless as he reads the years and words engraved on the stones.

"It's not their fault," he whispers.

"No, it is not," Rapunzel exhales.

And the talk about consequences so feared by Eugene makes the most logical sense to her. Somehow, his tragedy is wired deep in him without him knowing it. He doesn't want to make her take that kind of risk without the guarantee that he will be by her side. But as the tombstones had spoken the truth about risks and consequences, they both know that life itself is a risk, a gamble of the most foolish kind. And none has no power to guarantee nothing at all but promises they make while they still have breath in them.

Rapunzel takes Eugene in her arms and cradles his head in the crook of her breasts as he releases his anguish.

As they embrace, the sun rises from the tree-lined horizon with soft golden light.

"The second sunrise after the night you climbed into my tower," she says softly. He raises his head from her breasts.

"It is time for us to live," he exhales, kisses her on the lips and says.

"Happily ever after starts now."

THE END

**Author's Note**: With great relief I wrote this. To everyone reading this,** Damon**, **Aerrows Girl_07**, **Sparklewolf7000**, **An Unknown Foreign Beauty**, **Romance and Musical**, **PampleMousse07, CommanderNemo, the-fairy-godmother**, **Wolfram-and-Hart-Sauron, FaithRivens, TruliFrighteningMonsterAlice, Alltangledup, SWACGleekFreak, AIOFanNCRM, goatgod**, **CocoRocks, couchyogurt**, thank you all very much!


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